


Fat End of the Wedge

by ApocalypseThen



Series: The Story of A [1]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Butt Plugs, F/F, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 04:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApocalypseThen/pseuds/ApocalypseThen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ashley's pining away for Shepard at the party until Miranda calls her out. She gets Ashley to give up her infatuation by revealing Shepard's secret --- and exploiting her fascinated reaction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fat End of the Wedge

“It's difficult to watch, isn't it?” commented Miranda. She settled herself against the kitchen counter next to Ashley.

“Yeah,” mumbled Ashley non-commitally. She had her arms folded across the chest of her tight blue uniform. She was eyeballing the group of women fawning over Shepard. With Tali to her left and Samantha to her right, Shepard commanded the centre of the sofa, reaching forward to select tidbits from the finger food on the coffee table and feed them to one or the other of the bashful young women. Liara sat on an armchair, leaning as close as she could get to the small group with her eyes shining and bright, eagerly hanging off Shepard's every word.

“Oh, you'll have to get over it sometime,” said Miranda in a friendly tone. “Shepard doesn't go for your type.”

Ashley felt herself getting hot under the collar. “What type is that? Exactly?” she demanded, turning to face Miranda.

“Oh, you know,” said Miranda, still gazing ahead. “Strong, independent, confident. Beautiful.” She turned her head to favour Ashley with a sly smile, bringing her dimples into play. “No, Old Scarface likes the naïve little girls to follow her around like puppies. Is that what you want?”

“I just don't understand...” started Ashley. “I mean, she acted like she was into me, way back. When we first met.”

“She's like that with everyone, at first,” Miranda sympathised. “Either you stand up to her, and she loses interest. Or you end up like that.” She nodded towards the fireplace scene, where Liara had been pouting like a teenager at being left out, and had moved to kneel at the foot of the sofa, at Shepard's feet. “Count yourself lucky, soldier.”

“Yeah,” said Ashley, although her eyes were drawn back to Shepard and her fanclub. They were pathetic, the fawning trio. But she couldn't help wanting to be the focus of that attention. Shepard's easy confidence, her loose, powerful arms relaxing on the back of the sofa, proclaiming ownership, announcing her superiority over all she surveyed. Ashley wanted to be near to that.

“Oh my,” said Miranda. “I thought, after the way you laid into her on Horizon, you'd be the last person I'd find pining over her.”

“We made up,” mumbled Ashley. “And she brought me a book. In the hospital.”

“Oh, she can be nice enough,” replied Miranda, an amused quirk to her mouth. “But she's got certain expectations. Do you know what it really means to be one of them?” she asked, tilting her head gently towards the girls that were competing for Shepard's consideration.

“You're gonna tell me anyway, aren't you?” said Ashley, combatively.

“I do like to see a bit of spirit,” said Miranda, touching Ashley lightly on the arm. “Unlike her. Follow me and I'll show you how she makes them act that way.” Miranda turned her body, then her head, maintaining eye contact until the last moment. Ashley found herself turning to watch as Miranda walked away, her hips swinging in her figure-hugging outfit, her tight buns popping up and down.

“Ah, the hell with this,” she said under her breath, casting a final longing look in Shepard's oblivious direction. She turned away from the kitchen counter and followed a few paces behind Miranda, who was pacing deliberately towards the staircase. She looked over her shoulder and smiled knowingly.

Ashley felt her heart race. Just what did Miranda have in mind? She followed her upstairs to the large bedroom at the back, her guard up, her curiousity piqued. “Ensuite armory?” was her first reaction. “Nice.”

“Shepard knows what's important, doesn't she?” replied Miranda. She stepped into the armory and bent down to pull out a wide crate, which she lifted and placed on the work table. She patted it and looked at Ashley. “This is where she keeps them.”

“Keeps what?” asked Ashley, craning forward from the doorway.

“Come closer,” said Miranda, making room for Ashley's muscular bulk beside her. “See how old this box is? She's been humping it around with her for years. Something that precious to her...” Miranda fiddled with her omni-tool. “Luckily her security's rubbish. I guess she relies on her reputation.”

“Aren't you afraid of her finding out?” Ashley said. “You messing with her stuff like this?”

“I have a feeling she might actually approve,” replied Miranda. “She's always been an 'ends justifies the means' kind of girl.”

“You're being a tease,” said Ashley, folding her arms as Miranda continued to caress the crate.

“Damn right,” replied Miranda. “And you're loving it, aren't you?” She waggled her eyebrows at Ashley, one hand flat on the top of the crate.

Ashley laughed at her. “Just open the damn thing already, Miranda,” she said.

Miranda narrowed her eyes like a predator, smirking out of the corner of her mouth. “Here we go then,” she said, as she flipped up the lid. The crate flowered open, articulated panels cantilevering up to present a wide expanse of stabilising foam, niched with fist-sized objects.

“You brought me up here to see the big nerd's grenade collection?” Ashley said as she plucked a smooth black object from its nest of foam, tossing it in her hand. “Hey, where's the firing pin?” she asked as she inspected it more closely.

Miranda looked at her with a slightly open mouth. She shut it again. “Dear lord,” she said. “This is the second human spectre?”

“What?” said Ashley, looking up from the object in her hand. “Hey, some of these are missing. Does she like, have her grenades inscribed with her enemies names? Is that what all these little nameplates are for?”

Miranda took the rounded black lump from Ashley's hands and put it back in its niche. “Why don't you take a closer look?” she suggested.

Ashley bent over the case to read the tiny writing on the little labels that adorned each niche, empty or occupied. “Kaidan?” she said, wonderingly, reading a name somewhere near the left. “Did she... she didn't kill Kaidan, did she? No way.”

Miranda didn't respond, letting her read on. 

“Liara. Miranda. Tevos. EDI. Aria. Samantha....”

“Aria? Really?” interrupted Miranda. “Let me see that one?” She inspected it closely as Ashley handed it to her. It was longer than her hand, covered with protrusions, and smelled faintly chemical. She shuddered and handed it back.

“Hey, I'm here!” announced Ashley, sounding just a little bit relieved. She didn't know how she'd feel if everyone but her got their own spot in Shepard's private collection. “Uh. Twice, actually.”

She presented her findings to Miranda. In her left hand she held a smooth, tapered ellipsoid with a flared base, a little smaller than her large soldier's hand. In her right was a deformed monstrosity, flanged and ridged like a Christmas tree, wide and pointy and asymmetric.

“You should feel honoured,” said Miranda. She pointed to the simple, smooth one. “That one means she likes you,” she explained. “That one means she doesn't,” she said, indicating the ridges and wicked curve.

“I don't get it,” said Ashley, holding the two objects up. They felt reassuringly dense in her hands, she found herself gripping the necks above their flared bases with her closed hands. “These aren't grenades, are they?”

“No,” said Miranda, without further elaborating.

“Well, damn it, what are they?” she insisted, frustrated at Miranda's continued teasing. “Some kind of art project? Voodoo dolls? Oh yeah, she uses her voodoo on all the girls, doesn't she? That's got to be it.”

“If you quit waving them around, I'll tell you,” said Miranda.

“Deal,” said Ashley, putting them back in their respective foam cutouts. “Now start talking.”

Miranda rested a hand lightly at the small of Ashley's back as she started talking, both of them facing the array of tagged objects. “When Shepard decides she wants you, she can be very charming,” she began. She let her hand trace gently up Ashley's spine. “She showers attention on you. You're the only thing in the world to her. She'll get to know you as well as she can. She'll flirt with you, touch you a little bit like this when she's nearby.” Miranda stroked Ashley's back with a light touch. Ashley felt her body respond. She recognised that move. When they'd been on the original Normandy together, Shepard had been up close to her more than once.

“Shepard will get you hooked. You'll want to please her any way you can. You'll fight harder for her, you'll go out of your way to win those approving smiles, you know, the ones she does with the corner of her mouth.” Miranda demonstrated the facial quirk that she meant, and Ashley's breath caught. She'd been on the receiving end of that little smile, most often right after a ripping off a perfect salute at the end of an exemplary report. She was ashamed to admit that she had exulted in those little moments of approval.

“You find yourself thinking about her all the time,” continued Miranda. “When she makes her move, finally, she'll already have you so twisted around her finger that you won't stand a chance. She'll get you so high on her smell, her touch, her powerful arms crushing you like you're nothing, you'll do anything she asks.” Ashley noticed that Miranda was getting a little color in her cheeks. How much of this was personal experience and how much was she making up to flesh out the story?

“And then she'll ask,” Miranda said. “And you'll agree, without thinking about it. And then you'll be hers, and she'll lose interest. She'll move on to the next conquest. You'll have to beg for scraps with all the others. Like those ones downstairs.”

“Damn it, Miranda, agree to what?” asked Ashley, pushing her hair back from her face. She was feeling distinctly hot and bothered at having this discussion in such close quarters.

Miranda smiled at her as she picked up the smooth simple object from the niche with Ashley's name on it. “You'll agree to wear it,” she said. “To wear her plug, in your arse, all the time. To show her how much you love her.”

Ashley's eyes widened as she finally realised what the rack of 'grenades' really was. “Oh, shit!” she exclaimed. She wiped her sweaty hands on her thighs. “Gross! All of these... shit! No way!”

Miranda pointed out the missing ones. “Tali. Liara. Samantha.” She raised an eyebrow at Ashley, making her point. “Kelly. Ha, Jack? Really? That was still here last time.” She paused. “Kaidan?” she queried.

“Oh god,” Ashley gasped. “That actually makes sense.” She leaned back against the wall behind her. “That's so wrong. But it makes sense.” Her heart thundered in her chest. “Shit, I think I'm only alive because I never...”

“No,” said Miranda gently, touching Ashley's arm reassuringly. “She's not evil, you know. I think this is more of a hobby for her. She doesn't take it into the field.”

Ashley calmed under her touch. “So, them downstairs...?” she asked.

“Plugged,” replied Miranda. The word sounded odd in the enclosed space. Ashley's throat felt dry and constricted. Her uniform felt too tight. “All of them. Good little plugged girls.”

“Oh god,” Ashley repeated. The implications blossomed in her mind. Her knees felt weak. She hated to admit that part of her wanted nothing more than to be one of Shepard's little pets. “Did you...?” she croaked out the question.

Miranda leaned against the wall next to her, slipping an arm behind her back and pressing lightly against her side. Ashley felt the vibrations of her laugh. “I thought _I_ was seducing _her_ ,” she said. “When she showed me mine...” Miranda indicated the plug, thick and bulbous, obviously designed to inflict a maximum level of discomfort upon her. “Let's just say, we agreed to disagree on the topic. She was always going on about the stick I had up my arse. I guess she secretly approved.” Miranda shook her head, her hair spilling onto Ashley's shoulder.

“Yours looks much nicer,” Miranda continued. “At least, the first one. You'd probably have quite a nice time with that. You must have really pissed her off at Horizon, though. That one's even worse than Aria's.”

“She liked me?” asked Ashley in a small voice. “This means... she liked me?”

“Yes, dear,” said Miranda, patting her on the belly with her free hand. Ashley jerked a little self-consciously, noticing that she had a beautiful, brazen woman pressed against her. “She did. Are you going to run downstairs and throw yourself at her now?”

“Oh hell, no,” said Ashley without hesitation. “Do I look crazy?”

“You did earlier,” replied Miranda.

“That was before,” said Ashley. “Now I get it.”

“You still have your pride,” said Miranda. She turned her head to whisper directly into Ashley's ear. “That's a relief.”

Ashley started to sweat again. Miranda was awfully warm against her side. “You know,” Miranda said, “Liara must have had hers in for _years_. And she's still hooked. Tali too, I'd wager. Such good little submissives.” She sighed. Ashley felt the rise and fall of her chest against her. “But Shepard doesn't like women who think for themselves. I suppose you'll never know what it's like.”

Ashley turned her head away from Miranda's insistent whispering. She shivered despite the warmth she felt. “What... what are you doing?” she asked.

“Making you an offer,” said Miranda. She let her arm slide down Ashley's back so that her hand rested just where her buttocks met the wall. She pushed insistently to slide her hand down the crack that Ashley's skintight uniform made between her firm, muscular cheeks.

Ashley twitched her hips forward as her body decided to allow Miranda access without consulting her brain. Miranda slid her fingers as far down as she could reach and Ashley whimpered slightly. Her feet arched and her heels raised off the ground, and Miranda took the opportunity to reach her target. Ashley's rear hole clenched and quivered as Miranda's finger probed it through the slick material of her skintight pants.

“How...” Ashley croaked. “How do I know you're not still working for Cerberus?” she asked, head still turned away from Miranda.

“Oh,” replied Miranda, her finger working insistently. “So it's the ugly one you want? I shouldn't be surprised. You still feel guilty, even now. You want to make up for how you treated Shepard, don't you? How you treated _me_.”

“You?” asked Ashley, her eyes closed and her brow furrowed with intense concentration. Miranda's tickling, probing finger sent intense jolts to her belly, her tits, her knees, her crotch. Her hands curled into fists that she pressed back against the wall that supported her.

Miranda reached across the short distance to the workbench and pulled the convoluted, grotesque buttplug out with her free hand. “Yes, me. Do you think my feelings weren't hurt too? I'm an idealist too, Ash. I want what's best for humanity. While I was with Cerberus, I thought they did too. You spat on all of that.” She brought the plug up to Ashley's lips and used it's tip to gently stroke her lips.

Ashley felt the light brush of smooth silicone and parted her wet lips with a shuddering exhalation. “I spat on you,” she whispered as Miranda brought it in even closer. Her lips rested on the buttplug, held a little apart by the uppermost of the many ridges. She felt a mild stinging sensation where the soft inner flesh of her lip touched it. “Ah!” she said. “It burns!”

Miranda withdrew the plug and sniffed at it. “You must really have pissed her off,” she said. “For her to coat it with chili.” Ashley squirmed and writhed against Miranda's insistent fingering. “Drop your pants,” she whispered in Ashley's ear.

Ashley's fingers felt huge and rubbery. She fumbled at the fastening of her pants for what seemed like an eternity. Miranda's hot breath in her ear sounded like a gale. Finally she got the waistband loose. Miranda helped her pull her pants down past her ass and immediately replaced her finger at Ashley's asshole, tracing the contours of the puckered opening through her sensible cotton underwear.

“Up against the workbench, I think, soldier,” Miranda commanded. Ashley shuffled the step forward that was required, her pants bunching around her thighs. “Hands out.” Ashley complied, spreading her hands flat on the bench on either side of the crate. She had an excellent view of the rack of plugs as she lowered her nose towards it.

“Oh god,” she whimpered as her face began to shine with sweat. “Am I really doing this?”

“You're going to love it,” Miranda reassured her. “You're going to love being my plugged-up soldier girl.”

Ashley's knees quivered and she pushed her hips back, trying to get Miranda to apply more pressure to her hole. “Patience,” said Miranda. “First things first.” She reached around Ashley to the crate in front of her and swivelled away one of the racks. Beneath it was a stock of supplies. She extracted a tapered bag of squishy liquid.

Miranda finally pulled Ashley's underwear down and took a look at her rear end. Her ass was such a powerhouse, all muscles and curves. She watched as Ashley's cheeks clenched suddenly when she exhaled on her, hiding her little pink puckered entrance. They relaxed apart again slowly. Miranda brought the bag of lube up and worked the fine nozzle into Ashley's hole. Ashley's legs twitched and she rose onto her toes, gasping. “Hold still,” Miranda instructed. “And don't you dare let any of this out.”

“Yes, ma'am,” she replied. Miranda began squeezing the bag, pushing the thick lube out to fill Ashley's rectum and passage. “God, that feels weird,” said Ashley. “Uh, shit, it feels like I really need to go to the bathroom.”

“Hold it, soldier, that's an order,” Miranda told her. Ashley nodded, her teeth gritted, as she clamped down on the urge to let her natural reflexes take over. Miranda saw her ring of muscle pulse once or twice, but she managed to retain control.

Miranda withdrew the nozzle and spread the remaining lubricant over the buttplug. “Ready, Ashley?” she asked.

“Yes! Fuck yes,” replied Ashley, the urgency of her need outweighing any humiliation she might have recognised from being in such a compromising situation. “Quick, before I lose it.”

“I want you to say it,” said Miranda.

Ashley felt herself about to lose control over her bowels. She felt sweat trickle down between her breasts. “Plug me,” she groaned. “Please.”

Miranda smiled thinly as she brought the head of the buttplug up to touch Ashley's anus. Ashley's muscles immediately spasmed as she lost her battle against the load of lube, but when her ring opened to try to expel it, it was blocked by the head of the plug. Miranda took the opportunity to slip the plug in past the first, smallest ridge.

“Unh! Fuck!” cried Ashley. Miranda held the plug in place with one hand, and stroked Ashley's back with the other. Ashley's face was red and she was sweating profusely. It felt as if her asshole was connected to every part of her body. Miranda glanced down in front and saw the glistening, puffy folds of Ashley's sex, aching for attention. “Oh shit. Oh shit!” Ashley started to whimper and groan as the burning of the chili coating started to make it's presence felt. Her ring was on fire, the warmth spreading through her whole body to reach every part that wasn't already overheated and sweaty.

Miranda began to push gently, twisting and working the plug to spread the lube evenly around and not catch anywhere. The chili heat peaked and plateaued, the adrenaline release that had occurred on first penetration replaced by an endorphin rush that made Ashley relax all over. Miranda saw it happen and took the opportunity to press her case, slipping past another of the plug's obscene ridges. “Oh, man!” Ashley moaned.

“I knew you'd like it,” said Miranda. “Not much further to go. Are you ready for another push, soldier?”

Ashley could barely hear her, the intensity of the pressure in her rear end, the burning of the chili and the screaming of her muscles were all distracting her. She tried to breathe in through her nose and relax herself. She couldn't deny the intensity of the experience so far, it was far beyond anything that she'd ever tried. She would have called an end to it already, except...

She was hornier than she'd ever been. Hornier than when Shepard had told her what a good soldier she thought she was, and she'd had to retire to her bunk for a good hour alone to entertain her most submissive fantasies. Miranda had seen straight through her self-assured exterior to the girl who needed to be loved and owned by someone powerful. And she was giving her the same experience that all those fawning little groupies got, Shepard's favorite punishment and reward for her big, cruel mouth. She realised that she wanted it badly, to be utterly humiliated like one of Shepard's fanclub, but she didn't want to end up like one of them, forever plugged and desperate and forgotten. Miranda was doing her a huge service, letting her have this experience. She wanted to make her happy. And proud.

“Yes,” she managed to get out, finally. “Ready.”

Miranda applied pressure slowly for the final push. Ashley's ring resisted until she lowered her forehead to touch the cool surface of the workbench and took several deep breaths. She opened up like a flower and the buttplug slid home, as if her insides were sucking it in. A little bit of thick lubricant slid out, before her ring tightened automatically around the narrow neck. “That's my good girl,” said Miranda. Giving her little time to adjust, Miranda pulled up Ashley's underwear and tight pants over her muscly butt, fastening them for her. She swatted her lightly on the ass, and Ashley felt it deep inside as the buttplug transmitted the feelings to her vagina and her bladder. She felt a burning need to urinate that lessened as she began to straighten up.

“See you at the party,” said Miranda, leaving Ashley alone in the room.

Ashley's vision swam as she stood up straight. Everything seemed bright. Was she high? Every movement brought a new explosion of sensation. Her nipples were hard little pebbles inside her bra. Her crotch felt like it was swimming in her natural juices. She leaned against the door frame, pushing sweat-slick hair out of her face, as she tried to regain her composure.

Where had Miranda gone? Was she going to just leave her like this? What if she couldn't get the plug back out on her own? Ashley caught sight of herself in the mirror. She was fully clothed, but she was a mess, red faced and puffy. She felt as if she was about to bust out of her uniform. She had thought her new outfit made her look dashing and delectable. In her current state it only said slutty. She pulled the zip of her jacket up a little higher.

It seemed an impossibly long way to the bedroom door. Her body felt so light, but she was so slow, every step left her sweating and panting for breath. Was this really how those groupies felt all the time? Permanently high, unable to think? No wonder they were all so eager to fall at Shepard's feet. Fucking losers. Ash put an arm out to support herself against the wall.

She left the bedroom, passing in sight of some sofas to her left. She stumbled across the open space towards the balcony. Oh. Stairs. She didn't think she could manage stairs. She leaned her elbows on the railing near the top of the stairs instead.

“Ashley!” called Miranda from downstairs. “Come join us, we're dancing!” Ashley had some trouble focusing but she found Miranda's pale form in amongst the furniture. She seemed to be surrounded by a glowing nimbus. Then again, so did everything. Ashley felt the her stomach churn as Miranda stared at her, a knowing smile on her face. 

She gripped the railing with both hands, gingerly extending one toe down to the next level. Trying to put too much weight on her arms made her core muscles clench, and made waves of tension radiate out from her plugged hole, weakening her. She might be able to get down the stairs. But she'd never be able to get back up, not in this condition.

Luckily there was nobody there to watch her tortuously slow progress. She collapsed thankfully against the kitchen counter, back where she had started, sweat trickling down her face profusely. Most of them were dancing to the loud music. Shepard was closely surrounded by her little group of devotees, letting them compete for her attention with ever wilder moves. Miranda was enjoying a shimmy with Garrus, but she caught Ashley's eye. 

So did Shepard, her red hair catching the lights, Ashley's distorted vision making her look like she two pools of green in a lake of fire. Ashley stared back, dazed, as the knowing little smirk on Shepard's face turned into the little quirk of approval that she used to hang so much of her pride upon. Shepard glanced between her and Miranda and her smile just broadened. With a little wink, she turned her attention back to her followers, egging them on.

Ashley felt heat rising up past her collar. Shepard approved. She was so ashamed that it meant the world to her. And so excited. She turned down a casual invitation to dance by James, who backed off quickly when he saw the state she was in, offering to bring her a glass of water instead. She accepted gratefully, sipping at it. It tasted like fire on her tongue.

Miranda came to her side after an intense half hour of dancing. “Want to get out of here, soldier?” she whispered in her ear.

Ashley tore her eyes away from Shepard's group to look at her. Miranda was flushed pink with exertion, her breathing heavy, her hair disorderly but still stylish. She wasn't Shepard, but Ashley was starting to see that that was a good thing. “Follow me,” Miranda whispered. Ashley felt like a furnace. She could only imagine the shade of crimson she must be. Even her hands looked dark.

Miranda led the way. Ashley pushed herself away from the kitchen counter, holding tight while her vision tunneled down when she straightened up again. She tottered after Miranda a step at a time, the massive plug inside her making every step a new adventure. She must be quite the sight. She comforted herself with the fact that most of the other women at this party were similarly equipped, and that the men were likely oblivious, as usual.

Miranda was waiting for her at the entrance to a downstairs bedroom. As Ashley approached, Miranda stepped back to let her past, then pushed her against the wall. Ashley was powerless to resist. She just wanted to curl up in a ball. Then Miranda kissed her, firm, warm lips brushing against hers. Ashley thought that she couldn't possibly have gotten any hotter or more desperate, but Miranda drew a needy, throaty moan from her.

Miranda began to strip her. She worked Ashley out of her jacket with the minimum of fuss, disposing of her bra shortly after. Ashley felt so much freer in the open, her pectorals, tight abs and high, proud breasts all radiating away their torrid stores. Miranda nibbled at her stiff nipple and she felt her asshole spasm in response, clenching hard around the buttplug. A finger in her navel made her core tighten and she thought she would throw up from the waves of pain that it caused.

“Fuck,” gasped Ashley. “I don't know... if I can take...”

Miranda silenced her with another kiss. Her hands drifted down to Ashley's crotch, tracing lightly over her sex before undoing her pants. Miranda knelt as she pulled them down, unpeeling Ashley as far as her boots. She figured out the side opening on the boots and soon after had Ashley completely naked.

Ashley closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She leaned against the wall and brought her hands to her hips. She opened her eyes and looked at Miranda, who had retreated a pace or two. She managed an inviting smile. “Thank you,” she said, her skin having retreated from beetroot red to a healthier shade of pink as she cooled off a little.

Miranda drank in the sight of the dishevelled, sweat stained soldier. The smell rising from her was unmistakable and intense. Miranda dropped to her knees and used her fingers to part the slick outer folds of Ashley's mound. She took an experimental lick, and looked up to see Ashley's reaction. She had screwed her eyes shut and clenched her fists immediately. Her leg muscles trembled.

“To the bed, I think,” said Miranda. “You won't last very long like this.” She rose, and guided a quivery Ashley over to the bed by her elbow.

“I'm... kind of afraid,” said Ashley. “I don't know how to lie down, without, you know...”

Miranda took the opportunity to remove her own clothes, revealing wide expanses of milky pale skin, a stark contrast to Ashley's dusky complexion. It only took her a few seconds, her clothing was apparently far more practical than it appeared. “Maybe this'll encourage you,” she said, as she reached for the bedside table. She shook out the tangled harness and saddled up a strap-on that suited her perfectly, from the colour to the curve and the size. It looked quite natural on her. Ashley took a step back.

“Oh shit, no, I don't think I can,” she protested. “I'm so full already.”

“You're not going to disappoint me, are you, soldier?” said Miranda, taking a step forward.

Ashley backed away from her again. “Please, no, I'll lick you out,” she tried.

Miranda advanced and Ashley retreated until her calves were trapped against the side of the bed. Miranda pushed herself in between Ashley's legs, forcing them apart, pressing the length of her dick up against her wet slit. Ashley moaned and trembled with desire, but she didn't know how to move without causing herself such exquisite pain.

Then she pushed Ashley back. She screamed as she fell on her ass, the buttplug jolting within her as her muscles tightened. She was unconscious from the pain for a few seconds, sprawling on her back. “You chose the nasty one, soldier,” said Miranda, when she came around. “Tough it out.”

Ashley was a tight fit with her asshole plugged so thoroughly. Miranda climbed on top of her and slowly applied pressure. The head of her dick slipped in easily enough, Ashley was dripping wet. But deeper she encountered the ridges of the plug behind the thin wall that separated the ass from the vagina. That in turn meant that her dick applied so much more pressure to the front wall of Ashley's vagina, squeezing the soft, spongy mass there up against the pubic bone. Ashley cried out as Miranda eased her way inside, millimeter by millimeter. She'd never been so full, so stretched, so tightly packed. It was intense. Her back arched as she tried to ease the pressure. Miranda took the opportunity to lock her arms underneath her for additional purchase, pulling herself deeper in, mashing their breasts together.

Ashley cried out as Miranda tried a tiny thrust. Her vision blurred when she started to move in earnest, rocking back and forth delicately. Her limbs were weak and useless, she couldn't pry Miranda off her. She felt herself giving up, trying to stay on the right side of the waves of pain and pleasure that were overtaking her, letting her body respond as it pleased. She whimpered, moaned, and let herself start to beg for more. “Yes, come on, fuck me, fuck me...” she babbled.

Miranda felt the pressure easing up as Ashley gave in to her, and began to thrust with more power, lengthening her stroke. Soon she was coaxing animal, incoherent noises out of her with every twitch of her hips. She sought out Ashley's lips and tasted her desperation, reveling in the control she had over the hard woman.

Then Miranda felt Ashley tighten everywhere, crushing the breath from her as she pulled her in tight. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, her neck muscles stood out, twitching, a spasm made her hips buck. They were both heaved a few centimeters into the air to crash back down into the bed. Miranda felt a flood of heat at her crotch as Ashley began to gush around her strap-on. 

Ashley's vagina and asshole twitched and spasmed together as she came. Miranda fastened her mouth over Ashley's and took her breath away, holding herself there to enhance Ashley's dizziness and draw out her climax. When she retreated, Ashley gasped for air.

Miranda began to hump away again. Ashley was dismayed to find that her limbs still didn't respond to her commands, the feeling of Miranda's cock compressing her insides was if anything even more intense now that she had come. She was powerless to stop Miranda from driving her to another peak, to be followed by yet another, each one taking her higher, each time her vision tunneling down just a little more as blood diverted from her brain to her pleasure centres.

Miranda stopped when Ashley fell limp after her third orgasm, spent, unconscious.

\------------------------

Ashley awoke to a feeling of emptiness inside her, but warmth and comfort at her back. Miranda lay curled against her in the bed. She squeezed her thighs experimentally to confirm that the buttplug had been removed while she was out. She raised her head and saw it standing proudly by the sink in the bathroom. She shivered. That had been intense. The most intense experience of her life.

She was afraid. She wanted more. She was afraid that Miranda might offer her more. Might ask her to wear a plug all the time. And she was afraid that she would say yes.

**Author's Note:**

> A kink meme fill:
> 
> http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/9115.html?thread=43606683#t43606683


End file.
